


Recollection

by Emers_Writes



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Angst, Post-Rise of the Guardians (2012), almost tagged major death, but it's Jacks and that's been known so, memory relfection, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:00:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28828548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emers_Writes/pseuds/Emers_Writes
Summary: It was the saddest thing he’d ever seen; even if he’d only been alive for no more than a few days.Jack had no recollection of the people around him. Hardly knew himself besides his name, but the entirety of it all had him stopping to watch. He didn’t know who died, but with the way the people hung themselves, to the sniffs and the cries, the weight eventually bore down on him too.orJack revisits an old memory with a new understanding.
Relationships: Jack Frost & Jack's Sister
Comments: 1
Kudos: 32





	Recollection

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written on Tumblr to the prompt: I was wondering if you could do a drable on how Jack and his sister Mary, (according to the wiki that's her name) dealt with the years after his passing. Maybe something about her or seeing her cry struck a chord with him?

It was the saddest thing he’d ever seen; even if he’d only been alive for no more than a few days.

Jack had no recollection of the people around him. Hardly knew himself besides his name, but the entirety of it all had him stopping to watch. To pay close attention and stay silent, other than the fact no one could hear him anyways. Not a soul could see him standing beside them, amongst the looming crowds that seemed to blur together in mix with his brimming tears. 

He didn’t know who died, but with the way the people hung themselves, to the sniffs and the cries, the weight eventually bore down on him too.

Jack had watched them set the place up before the others arrived. Watched them dig a hole in the ground, only a few inches, and planted a solid tomb into it. 

He didn’t know who died, but staring at the mossy stone etched with a language he couldn’t quite read, and listening to the men who worked whispering about how there wasn’t even a body, Jack felt that sink within him, too.

They must have been really loved, he thought to himself. Whoever couldn’t be buried, they used to have a life.

But something else caught his attention that night. He doesn’t think he’d have ever looked away from the tomb if it weren’t for the girl crouched beside it. 

She was young. Brown hair and matching eyes. Her hands kept trembling above the dirt from where she sat, but there was nothing in them. 

Jack concluded that she had the entire weight above her shoulders, rather than him. He could tell, simply from looking, that she’d fallen apart because of this death.

She was too young.

The small connection he’d felt towards the unburied body was similar to that of the girl. It was a strange feeling, to want to cry for someone he didn’t even know. But just like everyone else that night, Jack was grounded to the earth in grief.

There were dim torches illuminated around the mass of people, every one or so held in a hand to shine the light above their heads. Two were perched on either side of the tomb.

It’s worse thinking about that night knowing it was _his_ funeral.

The realization hadn’t been immediate.

Jack had a few days to muster over his memories after he’d opened his teeth capsule. So when his thoughts drifted back to the fire lit soil, sodden with tears the little girl wouldn’t stop crying, the feeling hit him worse than the suffocation from drowning.

His sister had been the girl, he also came to realize not too long after.

Jack assumed it’d be difficult to visit his frozen lake again, with the knowledge he’d fallen through the ice and never came out.

Jackson Overland never came out.

He also came to realize that that’s what had been etched into the stone so many years ago. His name. No matter how old the dialect, he can read it clearly now behind closed eyes.

_Jackson Overland, 18, Brother, Son, Friend, 1712._

The memory hurts significantly more than it had when he’d physically been there to witness the gathering. Of course it did, he didn’t have the slightest clue as to who anyone was. 

Jack wishes he’d seen more of Mary after that night.

Despite not knowing who she was at the time, they held a connection beyond words that kept him within the borders of the town. He’d pay special attention to her when he’d been around, and missed her when she’d left.

But at least he knows she’d gone and lived a full life.

That’s all he could’ve ever asked for.


End file.
